


shāh māt

by shslducktective



Series: "king and lionheart" [1]
Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Foreplay, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, do complicated feelings count as plot, if olive oil being used as lube counts as sane, if you don't count that one 4-koma strip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 23:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16229789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslducktective/pseuds/shslducktective
Summary: "the king is helpless."iskandar challenges waver to a game of chess, and what was supposed to be a simple mana transfer turns into something more. waver knows that this is a game he's fated to lose, even if he wins, but some temptations are impossible to resist.





	shāh māt

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this over the span of eight months. i wish that was an exaggeration. i have no idea how to finish things in a timely manner.
> 
> waver is a top. iskandar is his power bottom. thank you for coming to my ted talk and clicking on the first waver-topping-iskandar fic to be posted on ao3.

 “Hey, boy. I've been wondering something.”

 Waver lifted his gaze from the murder mystery he was reading to stare at his servant. It was only when Iskandar made eye contact that Waver realized he was staring far too intensely. Stereotypically flustered-but-trying-to-hide-it like one of the culprits from his favorite detective novels, he tore his eyes away from his servant and tried to focus on the creases in the blanket beneath his criss-crossed legs. Anything to distract him from the humiliating fact that his trousers had felt too tight on him for the past ten minutes and the even more humiliating fact that Iskandar, King of Conquerors, was splayed out on the floor beside his bed, examining him with a look of _knowing_.

 So, he waited for Iskandar to ask him whatever the hell it was he wanted to ask.

 And waited.

 And waited.

 “Well. If you're going to ask me something, ask already, idiot,” Waver huffed. He continued to avoid eye contact.

 Rider grumbled and stretched his limbs in a way that was oddly cat-like. “If I ask you something personal without your permission, you're just going to throw your book at me and call me an idiot, and then you'll tell me to fetch it for you.”

 Waver opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. There was no way he could refute his servant’s prediction without making a fool of himself. As the young magus found himself growing heated with frustration, he tried to think of a response that would come off as unworried.

 “Whatever. Just ask the question already. You have my permission.”

 “Hrm, fine.” Iskandar huffed and shifted his gaze up to the ceiling. “Is there a reason you've been sitting with your legs crossed and your hands in front of your groin all afternoon?”

 Waver froze. So, Rider  _did_ know. Panicking, he tried to come up with an excuse, but it was no use. Anything off the top of his head would sound ridiculous and fake. He had been cornered, and the only way out of this situation was to face his embarrassment head-on and hope that his stupid servant would forget about it as soon as possible.

 “S-So… So what if there is? It's not like I have the privacy to deal with stuff like that with you around! What do you expect me to do!?”

 Well, that did not come out as straightforward as he’d hoped it would. At least it was an attempt.

 Iskandar snorted and sat up. When he finally glanced at his master, the magus was still glaring at the bedsheets as his fingers clawed at the folds in the fabric. The sight made Rider chuckle, a reaction that only further provoked Waver's embarrassment.

 “Gah, you're making it seem like such a big deal! If I were you, I would just ask for some privacy. It's not like arousal is something unusual for growing young men.”

 Waver's cheeks flushed. By the time Iskandar had finished speaking, the magus was clenching the fabric in his fists as tightly as possible. “No, you don't understand! It's… It's embarrassing, okay? And how would I know you're not secretly watching me!?”

 “Naa, I suppose you wouldn't be able to know, huh?” Rider half-mused, half-teased. He wore a slightly mischievous grin while he spoke, stroking his beard as if the thought had just occurred to him.

 “I-Idiot!! Stupid pervert!! I can't believe you would watch me just to laugh at me!!” Waver shouted. He was staring directly at Iskandar, now, pointing his right index finger accusingly. Flushed cheeks and teary eyes be damned. Waver was furious, and he intended to make his servant well aware of it.

 “You're overthinking it, boy. I never said I was going to laugh at you, although it is amusing to see your reactions when I make fun of you. Why else do you think I do it so often?”

 Waver's expression softened as his eyes widened. His arm dropped to his side, lowering his finger of accusation along with it.

 “W-What?”

 Rider grunted again and rose to his knees, turning slightly so he could hunch over his master's bed. His forearms sunk into the mattress as he leaned forward, causing the bedsprings to creak. When Waver flinched and let out a suppressed cry at the noise, Iskandar smirked.

 “I have a proposal. We play a round of that board game of yours. The one with the black and white pieces, you know, the kings and queens and knights and  —”

 “Chess.”

 “Yes, that's the one! We play a game of chess,” Rider continued with a smile, showing no sign of irritation despite the fact that he had been interrupted. “If you lose, I'll dematerialize and give you all the privacy you need to take care of yourself. But if you win, I'll allow you to exchange mana with me. That way, you'll be able to sate your arousal and re-energize your servant all at once. Double the benefits. What say you?”

 “Wh… What…?” Waver repeated in a faint voice. His entire face had flushed in surprise, and he refused to look his servant’s way with cheeks as crimson as his mantle. “By ‘exchange mana,’ do you mean…?”

 “I mean what I said. We have sex, and you transfer some of your mana to me. That means that you’d get to take the active role.”

 “I know how mana transfer works, idiot!”

 Waver wished he could just curl up into a ball and make everything around him disappear. Of course, it wasn’t as if he _wanted_ his servant to humiliate him like some sort of sex toy. And it wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to make himself come off as even more submissive and pathetic than he probably already seemed. But how the hell would he be able to keep his composure if his first sexual act with another person was going to be shagging Alexander “the Great”? Wouldn’t that be humiliating for his servant? Hell, why did he even care? It wasn’t as if Iskandar hadn’t been the one to offer in the first place.

 “A-Are you really okay with that? I… I mean —”

 “No more questions, boy. You have yet to answer mine,” Rider reminded him, waving his hand dismissively. When Waver finally snuck a glance his way, the Macedonian king flashed him a reassuring grin.

 It didn’t reassure the young magus. All it did was make his stomach feel like it was twisting into a pretzel and worsen the growing pressure in his trousers. If he won this stupid game, his servant was going to give him an opportunity no one else living in this era could even imagine. He was about to lose his virginity to _bloody_ _Iskandar_ , King of Conquerors. And Waver himself would be topping, just to top off the ludicrosity of the situation. Only if he won the game of chess, of course. That was too much for Waver to even think about in any kind of logical or practical way.

 So, he didn’t.

 “Y-Yes,” Waver responded. His voice was still shaky, but he inhaled and tried to loosen his grip on the blankets to calm himself as much as possible. He needed to seem — no, _be_ , not _seem_ — confident and unwavering. “Yes. I accept your proposal... or whatever.”

 Iskandar let out a thunderous laugh and straightened his posture. As he lifted his weight off the bed, Waver bounced a bit from the recoil.

 “Wonderful!” the King of Conquerors boomed. “Now, where did I move the chess set?” He stood and began to walk around the room while continuing to mumble to himself. With his attention finally diverted, Waver couldn’t help but look over his servant’s figure in awe of just how _big_ he was.

 How was he supposed to have sex with a man that big? How was he supposed to fuck someone with fingers nearly as large as his own prick? How was he supposed to focus on a game of chess with this much at stake? Was that Iskandar’s plan all along? To get him even more aroused than before with the possibility of sex and then mock him once his hopes were dashed?

_Breathe, Waver. Breathe. He probably doesn’t even know much about chess in the first place._

 “Do you even know how to play?”

 “Pah. Of course I know how to play. I read the instruction pamphlet after I got tired of reading everything else around here,” Iskandar groused, rummaging through piles of unfolded clothes, discarded wrappers, empty cans, and the like.

 “I-I see.”

 _You idiot. He probably studied this in advance. He_ is _into war documentaries, after all. He must find all this modern game theory and strategy stuff fascinating. Not that you_ don’t _know anything about game theory, but he was an actual general in life. You’re nothing compared to that. You’re just a boy with no experience who likes to read about things you don’t even understand._

 “Aha! Found it!” Rider shouted triumphantly, waving the locked chess suitcase in the air as if it were some sort of trophy. “Come help me set up the board, boy. I’ll let you use the white pieces.”

 Waver nodded and slid off the bed. As he traipsed closer to the center of the attic room, he desperately wished that the swell in his trousers wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He wished he had the willpower to force it down, but this whole situation was only making the problem so much worse. Just thinking about it made him flustered all over again, so he tried to think about nothing besides the bare minimum.

_Chess. I’m going to play a game of chess with Rider. Just a casual game of chess. I need to sit down and help him set up the board._

 So, Waver let the lower half of his body flop onto the floor, and he began to unclasp the locks on the chess suitcase. Watching the younger man intently, Iskandar sat down across from him. As his giant figure thudded against the hardwood, everything else in the room rattled. Startled, Waver dropped the chess suitcase, causing the chess pieces to spill all over the floor. Fortunately, the pieces were made of plastic instead of glass (like some of the fancy chess sets he’d seen in a few of his professors’ classrooms), so there was no way they could have broken from such a small impact.

 Something about dropping the suitcase made Waver’s anxiety go through the room, and he felt himself tremble in sheer frustration as he scrambled to collect the pieces. Everything seemed so stupid and pointless. Thanks to Rider, he was such a flustered mess. Because of Rider, he had this bloody erection in the first place. Yes, as much as he hated to admit it, the reason he had been so aroused lately was Rider’s constant presence. It was all Rider’s fault, and there was nothing he could do to lessen his frustration and anxiety besides carrying through with this stupid game that he was sure to lose.

 “Ah. Sorry, boy. I’m still getting used to this body, to be honest.”

 Waver immediately stopped grasping at the fallen pieces.

 “You… You are? I thought you would be used to it by now. You said you weren’t short when you were… You know. Alive.”

 “Hm?” Iskandar grunted and scratched his cheek. “Naa, you’re right. I did say that, didn’t I? But surely you don’t really think I was _this_ big, do you? We Macedonians may have been muscular, but no man could ever train a figure like this without some sort of intervention. This is the work of the Grail.”

 Waver blinked and tried to suppress his blush. “Oh… I guess I never thought about it like that.”

 Iskandar let out another thunderous laugh and slapped his palms against his thighs. “Disappointed, boy?”

 “N-No! Of course not, idiot!” Waver retorted, scooping up the last of the chess pieces and dumping them onto the board. “Now, make yourself useful and help me set up! If your oversized fingers can manage!”

 Chuckling, Iskandar began to pick the black pieces out of the pile and set them on his side of the board. Once Waver had convinced himself that he was calm enough to focus, he began to do the same to his side of the board, except with the white pieces. Before long, the chess board was set up, and the duo of master and servant were ready to engage in a battle of the minds.

* * *

 Less than half an hour later, Waver and Rider’s game of chess was at its end. At first, Waver had been behind despite his slight advantage as the player who made the first move. Iskandar had cornered him early on and captured one of his knights along with one of his bishops. However, Waver had regained the upper hand towards the end of the game, claiming nearly all of Rider’s pawns and forcing him into check with one of his rooks.

 “Th… That’s checkmate.”

 Iskandar, King of Conquerors, smiled from ear to ear at the declaration of his loss.

 “You should sound more confident about it, boy. You just defeated a great conqueror in battle! Hold your head high, and declare your victory with pride,” Iskandar chided with overwhelming force. His hands were on his thighs, and he was leaning forward as if to pressure Waver into feeling confident.

 Waver wasn’t buying it.

 “No,” the magus refused. Mustering as much confidence as he possibly could, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked his servant square in his eyes. “No, I won’t do it.”

 “Huh?”

 “I won’t be proud of my victory because it doesn’t make any sense! You were winning at the beginning! You obviously knew what you were doing! So, why did you suddenly stop trying towards the end?!

 Iskandar deflated and bowed his head in an attempt to hide the color of his cheeks. Waver had never seen his servant blush before. Hell, he hadn’t even thought it was possible. Yet, there was no way to describe the warm tint on Rider’s cheeks as anything but a blush, and the anomaly of such a dazzlingly confident man getting embarrassed gave the young magus a fuzzy feeling in his chest. He couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing — the King of Conquerors, the man who once conquered nearly half the globe, flustered and pink.

 Waver was melting. He wanted to prove that he could make Iskandar blush like that. His desire to take charge and make his own servant flustered beneath him was something he desperately wished he could suppress, but there was no turning back at this point. He had won. Er, sort-of-won. He still wasn’t sure if Rider’s unexplained behavior towards the end of the match could qualify his checkmate as a victory.

 “Rider, answer me,” the young magus tried to demand, but it came out like more of a whine.

 His plea worked either way. Rider sighed and gradually lifted his head with the intention to speak, revealing a sheepish smile that complimented the flush of his cheeks. Waver's heart skipped a beat at the sight of it.

 “Pah, you caught me, boy. I lost on purpose.”

 Waver frowned, his eyebrows drawing together as the corners of his lips sunk. His pulse was racing, his skin was cold, and the sensation of his own heart thumping in his chest made it impossible to focus. He didn't understand. He _couldn't_ understand.

 “Why would you do that…?”

 The King of Conqueror’s smile became lopsided as he responded to his master’s question. “It’s simple. Sometimes, in battle, you have to suffer a small loss if you want to win a major victory. Embarrassing myself like this was just a necessary sacrifice.” He paused to laugh, but Waver noticed that his laugh lacked its usual mirth. “That’s all.”

 The young magus sighed and stared at his socks. All of this was too confusing for him to deal with, but he knew better than to make Iskandar repeat himself. He needed to be clear, and he was going to use Rider’s own logic against him.

 “...Idiot. Stop speaking in riddles. You always scold me for narrowing my horizons, and you keep telling me to enjoy life's pleasures to the fullest. So, just tell me what it is you want already.”

 Iskandar threw his head backwards and laughed again, but this laugh resounded across the room with his usual confidence. Despite his fear of being mocked or chastised, Waver couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. That was his Rider.

 “I see you’re learning quickly, boy. Very well! I shall be straightforward from here on out! I wish to exchange mana with you. Not just for necessity’s sake, but for the sake of pleasure and entertainment, as well.” He paused and scratched at his cheek. “This may be as hard for me to say as it for you to express your desires, but I want you to penetrate me.”

 Waver trembled. If his skin had been cold before, it was frozen by now. At this point, his own heartbeat was roaring in his ears, dashing any attempts to calm down. Iskandar was being completely genuine. There was no question of his sincerity despite how impossible it seemed. Homosexuality may have been a common practice in Ancient Greece, but there was no way it could have been remotely acceptable for a man like Iskandar to be penetrated by someone so much younger and smaller. There was just no way.

 How the hell was this even happening?

 With a shaky exhale, the young magus steeled all of his nerves and spoke.

 “Alright. I’ll do it.” He hesitated to continue. “...But I wish you had just told me what you had wanted from the beginning. I would’ve said ‘yes’ either way.”

 Rider chuckled and rubbed his palm against his beard. “I know you would have agreed even if you knew I was being serious, boy. I was more concerned that you would think I was… Ah, what’s the phrase? …Pulling your leg.”

 Waver suddenly felt exposed. Was he really that predictable?

 “...Oh.”

 That was all the magus could manage to say. Iskandar just laughed, and something inside of Waver snapped.  Infuriated, his face and cheeks heated up, his palms began to sweat, and a swell of reckless fury rose into his chest.

 “Well, what was I supposed to think?! It’s not like I’m _used_ to people telling me that they want to have sex with me!! And I would never expect a man like _you_ to actually _want_ to be shagged!! Do you really think that sort of thing is common around here?!”

 “A man like me?”

 “Don’t play dumb, Rider! Y-You know. ...Big.”

 Iskandar grinned. “I’ll admit, it isn’t like that sort of thing was acceptable in my day. But I was summoned into this era, not my era, so it’d be a waste if I didn’t try new things! Don’t you think?”

 Waver swallowed. “Y-Yeah. I guess.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re still an idiot, though.”

 “Well, then,” Rider conceded with a smile that was remarkably gentle on his cragged face. “For tonight, I will be your idiot. Is that acceptable, boy?”

 Without a moment of hesitation to stop himself from seeming so eager, Waver Velvet began to nod with more fervor than he had ever felt before. He didn’t know why he was agreeing to this. This was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course, he _wanted_ Rider. As much as the young magus didn’t want to admit that he desired his servant, he had been aware of the unwelcome feeling for quite some time. But he knew it was stupid to think that having sex with his servant would somehow make Rider respect him more. If anything, it would just make the fact that he was a hopeless virgin even more apparent. To make matters worse, he was about to lose that virginity to a man he would almost certainly never see again once this Grail War came to an end. If Rider won the war, he was going to wish for his own mortality and leave to travel the world. If he died, he would return to the Throne of Heroes, and Waver would be left with nothing but regret. This was _so_ stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. But Waver couldn’t bring himself to say no.

 “O-Of course it is, moron! I already agreed earlier, didn't I?” Waver hesitated and lowered his voice to a solemn murmur. “...Checkmate.”

 The look on Rider's face was almost infuriating. He wore a smirk with lidded eyes, an expression oozing of confidence and lust. Waver was dying to make that composed expression break down underneath him. Or rather, he would try his best to make it happen.

 “That's right,” Iskandar prodded as he slapped his right palm against his chest. “Claim your victory, boy. I'm yours for the taking.”

 “Sh-Shut up, Rider! We're not doing this on the floor!” Waver shouted. At some point, he had started squirming and fidgeting in a subconscious effort distract himself from the uncomfortable pressure that remained in his trousers. He only noticed it once his servant leaned forward, reached across the chess board, and scooped him off the ground, cradling the young magus bridal style.

 As soon as Waver opened his mouth to protest, Iskandar sealed his master’s lips with his own. The sensation flooded his senses immediately. Before he could register what was happening, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of Rider's rough lips pressing against the corners of his mouth, his beard tickling his chin and neck, and his oversized hands squeezing his thighs together. With their mouths locked, Waver’s attempted reprimand melted into an odd noise that resembled a moan, and the sound of it embarrassed himself. Once Iskandar noticed that the magus had gone silent and begun to squirm again, he pulled away and frowned.

 “Was that too much, boy?”

 Waver found himself gasping for air. His cheeks had become so heated that the slight movement of air from Iskandar backing away felt cooling. “N-No. Just put me on the bed before you accidentally drop me, you arse.”

 Rider trilled his lips and looked askance. If Waver didn't know any better, he would think his servant had been wounded by the accusation.

 “Do you really think so low of me that you believe I would drop my master? Pah. No matter. To the bed, it is!”

 By the time Iskandar had set Waver on the bed, the young magus already regretted his demand. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he had enjoyed being carried by Rider. He had enjoyed the warmth and the intimacy, but — most of all — he had enjoyed the feeling of his face being so close to his servant’s own face. He needed to find a way to make that happen again.

 “Lie down, Rider. On your back.”

 Iskandar hummed in approval of Waver's sudden demandingness and climbed onto the bed, situating himself so that his head was on the pillow and his feet were at the other end of the bed, toes pointing towards the ceiling. Even without sprawling out, he had almost taken up the entire bed, and Waver felt himself sliding off the edge of the mattress. Of course, he didn't plan to stay on the edge of the bed for long. Swallowing his pride and fear, he crawled on top of Rider and positioned his knees so that he was straddling the redhead’s chest. His legs were spread too far to be comfortable, but he was okay with that. The friction caused by his trousers and boxers as they stretched across his erection was already exciting him. With his hands pressed against the mattress on opposite sides of Rider's head, he leaned forward for a second kiss. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was the impressed look on his servant’s face contrasting with the overconfident twinkle in his eyes.

 Their second kiss started out much worse than the first. Waver nearly missed Iskandar’s lips, and their noses bumped awkwardly as Waver tried to align the angle of his face with Iskandar’s face. Once Waver finally found the right angle, his hyperextended elbows began to feel weak, and his entire face nearly crashed into the face below his own. Despite this, Rider didn't seem to mind. Instead, he grunted in an amused sort of way and remained patient until his master was finally situated.

 Once Waver felt comfortable, their third kiss was everything the young magus had imagined (to his own mortification) and more. With their faces aligned properly, Waver was able to part Iskandar's lips with his tongue and deepen the kiss. The taste weirded him out — nothing pleasant besides the aftertaste of rice crackers, but nothing unpleasant either. Just the odd feeling of tasting someone else's saliva. Iskandar held back at first, giving Waver the time to explore his mouth and become familiar with the sensation. However, Waver was feeling impatient, and it wasn't long before he started to groan and nip at Iskandar's bottom lip in attempt to make his servant reciprocate his actions.

 Rider was clearly eager to oblige. As his tongue clashed with Waver's, he lifted his right hand to the back of his master's head and his left hand to his master's hip. With strands of Waver's hair, silky and smooth, twirling through his fingers, he pushed their faces even closer together and started to suck on Waver's bottom lip. When that elicited a stifled moan from his master, Iskandar seemed to crave more of the same reaction. He lowered his left hand to grasp Waver's arse, and the magus impulsively thrusted against his chest with another moan, much longer and more passionate this time.

 For over a minute, they remained in the same position — warring with their tongues as Rider played with Waver's hair and squeezed his arse. Once Waver stopped moaning as intensely as he had been, Iskandar moved his left hand again, cupping his master's fully clothed erection in his palm. Rider seemed more than pleased when that made Waver pull away for a brief second to gasp and moan aloud. Embarrassed, the magus smashed his lips back onto his servant’s mouth and whimpered into the kiss. As Rider palmed Waver's erection through his trousers, Waver grinded against his servant’s palm until he felt like his overextended legs were going to give out.

 “R-Rider,” Waver whined, breaking away from the kiss. “This hurts.”

 “Huh?”

 “My legs. I can't stay in this position any longer, and I feel like —” He hesitated, clearly ashamed to finish his sentence. Looking down at his servant’s chest to avoid eye contact, he forced himself to continue. “I think I'm gonna… I-I'm gonna cum if we keep this up. I'm not gonna last long enough to… You know.”

 Iskandar smiled in amusement and continued to stroke his master's hair with his right hand, moving his left hand to cup Waver's crimson face. “Do you think you'll be able to keep going after you relieve yourself, boy?”

 Waver slapped Rider's hand away, pressing his face into the chest below him to mask his embarrassment. “I don't know!” he replied in a muffled groan. “...We can try.”

 “Fair enough, boy. Climb off me, and I'll take care of you.”

 Waver hated the way Iskandar's last words made his heart flutter. He hated it, but he nodded and backed up, anyway, struggling to avoid any contact with his servant’s groin as he scrambled backwards into the space between Rider's legs. He wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Part of him was afraid Rider wasn't even hard in spite of their heated makeout session, and part of him was afraid he wouldn't be able to deal with Rider's erection if it ever came up. Either way, he was nervous. Too nervous to think straight. But there was no way he could deny that he was having the time of his life.

 Once Waver had backed off Iskandar's chest, Iskandar sat up, moved his left leg around his master's body, and descended from the bed onto the floor. Before Waver could register what was happening, his servant was on the floor, sitting seiza-style and facing the bed with a cheeky smirk.

 Once Waver realized what Iskandar was planning, he froze.

 “R-Rider, you don't plan on —”

 “I do, unless you have any protests. I'll make you relieve yourself quickly this way, so you can get on to the mana transfer, eh?”

 “I-Idiot! That's all you care about, isn't it? Isn't this embarrassing for you at all?!”

 Iskandar sighed, resting his chin on the bed. “Well, it's a little embarrassing, but that's not about to stop the King of Conquerors! I already said this before: it'd be a waste not to try new things while I'm summoned in this era, and I intend to try these new things with you. So, come, boy. Let me pleasure you.”

 “Fine. W-Whatever. Just make it quick,” Waver contended, still trying to hide the fact that his heart was skipping in his chest from excitement that he could barely contain. In a sad attempt at pretending to be reluctant, he scooted over to the edge of the bed and let his legs dangle off the edge. To his own disgrace, his toes barely touched the floor, but he tried to push any self-deprecating thoughts about his height out of mind and focus on the man in front of him.

 It wasn't hard for Waver to distract himself from his lack of confidence. As soon as the young magus turned to face his servant, Rider cupped Waver's face in his hands and rose to his knees, pressing their lips together for another kiss. Every time their lips met, Waver found his heart growing more and more fond of his servant. It frightened him. He didn't understand why Iskandar was bothering to kiss him so many times if this was just his way of experimenting in the modern era, but he wasn't about to stop Iskandar when he was enjoying it so much. Deep down, he hoped that this was lovemaking. It _seemed_ like everything lovemaking was made up to be, but he barely knew anything about sex or romance in the first place. Nothing outside of history textbooks and detective novels and overheard conversations and that one sex education class he had to take in middle school, that is. Either way, the notion was ridiculous. It couldn't be lovemaking. Waver wasn't even certain he _loved_ Rider. Yet. He had to remind himself that Iskandar was a great king from ancient times, and he was just a college student who had been struck with feelings for his servant because of what was probably some sort of punishment for joining this Grail War with a stolen relic. To Rider, this was just entertainment. The ancient king had even said so himself.

 Waver cupped his Rider's face and kissed him back with all the love in his heart, anyway.

 After some hazy, unmeasurable span of bliss that could have lasted hours or mere seconds, Waver was reined back into reality by Iskandar's hands moving down his chest towards the hem of his sweater. As Rider's hands made their way along Waver’s fully clothed torso, he rubbed his thumbs in circles against the green fabric, paying extra attention to his master's chest. By then, Waver’s erection had become painful, and he was almost desperate for Iskandar to move faster. Groaning with impatience, the young magus nudged his servant’s thigh with his foot. Rider took the hint as well as the initiative to speed things up. Sliding his hands underneath the hem of Waver’s sweater, Iskander tugged on the fabric of his white button-up to untuck it from his trousers. Instead of bothering to unbutton the shirt, he simply pushed it up until his hands were on his master's bare chest. As soon as Rider pinched Waver's nipples between his index fingers and his thumbs, Waver jerked forward and whimpered into Rider's mouth. Grinning through their kiss, Iskandar continued to play with his master's chest until Waver’s moans subsided and he felt another nudge against his thigh.

 When Iskandar pulled away from Waver's face, Waver was surprised to see that he wasn't the only one who was blushing and gasping after going so long without pausing for air. At some point while they had been kissing, Iskandar’s face had become flushed again, and Waver decided that he wanted nothing more than to see that face at work between his legs.

 “How do you feel, boy?” Iskandar asked as he moved his palms to rest on his master's thighs.

 “I… I thought you were going to be quick about this,” Waver panted. Without realizing it, he had started squirming again.

 Rider laughed. “You're that eager, huh? Or is my pleasuring not to your liking?”

 “N-No!” Waver shouted impulsively. As soon as that one word left his lips, he slapped his palm against his mouth in embarrassment, prompting even more laughter from his servant. When he realized there was no way he could backpedal from that slip, he resolved to temporarily forget his embarrassment, lower his hand along with his gaze, and continue to speak. “I-I just… Hurry up already, will you?”

 Instead of replying, Iskandar offered a lopsided smile and nodded. Watching him struggle with the fly, Waver noticed that his servant seemed mildly flustered, but the young magus quickly dismissed that train of thought as ridiculous. His fumbling was probably just the result of his inexperience with zippers and his oversized fingers combined. Nothing more.

 “Here,” Waver offered, swatting Rider's hands away. “You don't know anything about modern clothing, do you?”

 Again, Iskandar held his tongue, grunting evasively in place of a response. Once Waver had unzipped his own fly, Rider hooked his fingers around the waistband of his trousers and tugged them down to his knees, then past his ankles, then onto the floor. Realizing what was going to happen next, Waver closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever his servant’s reaction would be.

_Don't laugh. Please. Don't laugh at me. God, please._

 What actually happened next was a surprise to Waver. Instead of pulling Waver's boxers down right away, Iskandar pressed his palm against his master's erection through the thin cloth, slowly curling his fingers around its girth to get a feel for its size and curve. Unable to restrain himself, Waver whimpered through pursed lips. After a few experimental strokes through the fabric, Iskandar lightly tugged on the elastic waistband — not enough to expose anything past Waver’s lower abdomen, but enough to catch his attention.

 “Are you sure you're okay with this, boy?” Rider asked, looking up to his master for some sort of reaction and leaving Waver puzzled as to _why the hell_ he was procrastinating so much.

 “Y-Yes! I'm okay with it! Just get on with it, idiot! I won't tell you again!”

 Once Waver had spat out his impatient consent, Iskandar stopped hesitating. Dragging his fingers against the sides of Waver’s hips, past his thighs, and over his knees, Iskandar pulled his master's boxers down to his ankles in one continuous motion. Despite how demanding Waver had been only seconds prior, the sudden movement surprised him, and his heart skipped a beat in fear of being laughed at. He looked away, face burning with shame and apprehension, but no laughter came.

 “Mm, that's very nice, boy,” Iskandar observed provocatively.

 “Wh-What?!” Waver spluttered in surprise at the unexpected praise. Flustered, he squeezed his thighs together in attempt to hide his erection from Rider's view. “It's small!” Thirteen centimeters, to be exact. Certainly nothing compared to whatever could be tucked away behind his servant’s fly. Was this some sort of joke?

 “Well, of course.”

 “What the hell do you mean by that?! No one wants a small prick, idiot.”

 Rider hummed in consideration before offering his explanation. “I see… Times really have changed, boy. In my day, a small phallus was considered ideal. You have a fine physique despite how short you are.”

 The magus clenched his fists and his jaw. “You arse! If you're going to compliment me, don't insult me at the same — mmph!”

 Waver's reprimand was cut short when Iskandar leaned forward, cupped his head in his left hand, and silenced him by locking their lips together. With his servant’s tongue in his mouth and his servant’s right hand sliding between his thighs to part them, Waver found it impossible to maintain his anger for any longer. Rider parted from the kiss as quickly as he had initiated it, moving his hands around his master's hips as he dipped his head between his master's thighs.

 Nothing could have prepared Waver for the feeling of Iskandar's mouth around his prick. Until now, his only sexual experiences had been solo, and he was never one for experimenting. He had told himself that there were better things he could be doing instead of wasting his time on sexual exploits; so, whenever he needed to get off, he just relied on his own hands and a pump of lotion. The sensation of someone else's tongue and lips against his erection, especially after it had been neglected for who-knows-how-long, was something that he could only describe as ecstasy.

 The feeling was so intense that Waver felt as if he was about to lose control of his own body. With his back arched and his head thrown backwards, the young magus gripped the bed sheets as if he were holding on for dear life. He feared that if he let go he would be unable to keep himself from thrusting his hips forward and wailing like a wild animal. How embarrassing. To restrain himself from accidentally spilling words of affection in the heat of the moment, he was forced to bite his bottom lip. For a while, he stayed like that — moaning behind the wall of his teeth with his eyelids squeezed closed and his chin pointing towards the ceiling.

 Because Waver's vision was blank and his servant was doing all of the work to pleasure him, his mind should have been free to roam, but all he could do was fixate on the fact that a king who had once conquered half the globe was sucking an inexperienced university student's prick. This was really happening. Iskandar, King of Conquerors, was on his knees like some sort of loyal subject, bowing his head as he serviced Waver Velvet. Yes, Waver Velvet, the impoverished third-generation magus who had sold all of his parents’ earnings for a reckless shot at success. Waver Velvet, the laughingstock of the Clock Tower. Waver Velvet, a selfish coward who had stolen an artifact and gotten himself involved in a war far more intense than he ever could have imagined just to prove his own worth. Waver Velvet, a pathetic excuse for a master with neither notoriety nor talent. Waver Velvet, a repressed virgin who had spent half of his life denying his own sexuality and the other half convincing himself that he had better things to do than pursue his deviant desires of the flesh. Books to read. Spells to learn. Techniques to practice. Anything to distract himself from the fact that everything important to him was considered highly unorthodox. Anything to distract himself from the fact that he would never be accepted or appreciated.

 Waver Velvet knew that his speck of an existence would never mean anything to the King of Conquerors, but his ego still inflated every time he thought about the present situation. It was impossible for the young magus not to take pride in the fact that such a glorious man had decided to lower himself by performing a degrading sexual favor for someone as insignificant as himself. Any average man in his place would be out of his mind to experience such an honor without letting it get to his head.

 Once Waver had given up on trying to wrap his mind around the magnitude of what was happening between his legs, he realized that he had to commit the image to memory. Lifting his head and opening his eyes, he drew all of his attention to the sight before him. Rider's eyes weren’t quite closed, but they weren’t open either. His jaw was barely extended, but each movement of his lips and cheeks accentuated the muscles and clefts in his face. Every time his head bobbed, his neck muscles flexed, and Waver found himself surprised by the faint glistening of sweat between his servant’s collarbones. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and Waver realized that — despite his confidence — this must have been his first time pleasuring someone instead of being pleasured. The thought was dizzying. If Waver believed that his ego had been swelling before, it was about to burst now. Before he could stop himself, his hands were in Iskandar’s hair and his ankles were crossed behind Iskandar’s neck.

 “Rider,” Waver crooned between pants. He could feel his servant react to the sound of his voice, pulling his hips forward, taking him deeper into his mouth, and picking up the pace. The young magus was too arrogant to offer any explicit praise, but the inflexion of his voice was enough for Iskandar to understand. “A-Aah, Rider. I'm about to —”

 Before Waver could finish his sentence, Iskandar took all of Waver’s erection into his mouth and swallowed with some primitive noise that sent shivers down Waver's spine. Waver's hips bucked, and Rider released him, looking up at his master with flushed cheeks and an unfamiliar expression — somewhat dazed but also smiling. Waver thought that he was going to die. The cause of death would be eye contact with the man who had just given him his first blowjob. As tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, the heat of both pleasure and shame flooding his senses, Waver came onto his servant’s face. Due to humiliation, his orgasm was restrained, but it was enough to leave his body trembling from the experience.

 “That was fun to watch, boy,” Iskandar drawled.

 It took Waver a minute to remember how to speak. It took him another moment to think of what to say to his goddamn _servant_ , grinning at him with streaks of cum splattered across his craggy face.

 “S-Shut up! I never gave you permission to watch! And don't speak to me before you clean your face!”

 “Really, now. My master won't even clean up his own mess?” Rider teased. He winked, but Waver couldn't deny that something about it was off. He had seen Iskandar wink several times before, and it had never been this shaky or hesitant.

 Even still. Fuck. If Iskandar kept this teasing up, Waver felt as if he would never be able to fully relieve himself.

 “I thought I told you to shut up,” the young magus bit out. He punctuated his reminder by rolling his eyes for additional effect. Crossing his legs to hide his prick for fear that it would look pathetic half-limp, he grabbed the hem of his sweater and sighed. “Close your eyes, idiot.”

 A look of surprise flashed across Rider’s features, but he complied. Once his servant’s eyes were closed, Waver removed his sweater and wasted no time in smothering the other man's face with it, attempting to wipe away all of the cum and sweat from what had just occurred. When he was done, he was disappointed to realize that it didn't work as well as he had hoped it would, but it was the best he could do without getting up to find a towel or degrading himself any further.

 “There. Now, you're not as gross.”

 Rider chuckled and lifted himself to claim Waver’s lips. The young magus tried not to wince away at the somewhat repulsive fact that the mouth he was tasting had just been wrapped around his prick. It bothered him, but it wasn't enough to stop himself from giving into the pleasure of the kiss. Instead, he let his fingers run through Iskandar's beard, allowing himself to take a disgusting sort of pride in each trace of his own drying cum clinging to his servant’s bristly red hair.

 When Rider parted from the kiss, he looked down between Waver's legs, prompting Waver to do the same. To their surprise, the young magus’ erection had barely retracted despite having just ejaculated.

 “You're still aroused, boy. I'm impressed.”

 Waver groaned and fidgeted, wishing his thighs would do a better job of hiding what remained between them. He was getting tired of his entire body flushing red every time Iskandar teased him. Every inch of him felt sensitive from both arousal and irritation. He just wanted to be in control of the situation. This was starting to become infuriating.

 “Isn't that what you wanted?”

 “Yes,” Iskandar laughed. “Yes, it is, boy. I'm glad you have yet to go soft, because I doubt I'd be able to stay patient for much longer. These leggings of yours are terribly restricting.”

 Waver groaned. He wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't ready to see just how massive Iskandar's erection really was, and he definitely wasn't about to attempt to unzip Rider’s fly with his sweaty hands and trembling fingers. Then again, he didn't know if he would ever be ready for the big reveal.

 “N-No one's forcing you to wear them, idiot! Just take them off yourself!”

 Iskandar stood with a groan. The floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight, and Waver suddenly felt small having to look up to a man nearly twice his height once again. Or, at least it seemed as if Rider was nearly twice his height when he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

 “You’re forgetting that I understand the metal contraptions on these leggings less than you do,” Rider grumbled. “If I take these off, I don't want to go through all the work of putting them back on.”

 “That's fine! That's fine!” the young magus hissed impatiently. “Just hurry…” He paused, eyes widening in realization.

 “Wait. Fuck.”

 “What's the matter, boy?”

 Waver furrowed his brows. “I don't have any lube. I can't believe I forgot to buy lotion at the grocery store.” He nearly choked on his own panic, and the pitch of his voice heightened. “I didn't think I would need anything like that, okay? Not with a war going on, and not with you around all the time!” He glanced down and let out a strained sigh. Christ, he was so stupid. Waves of frustration and disappointment and so many more emotions crashed over him all at once, sending flashes of heat to prick at the back of his neck. Thanks to his own mistake, the moment was ruined, and there was no way Iskandar would ever want to resume this sort of activity after such a letdown.

 “...I'm sorry, Rider.”

 There was a long pause of silence. Waver lacked the heart to lift his head to see Iskandar's expression, but he was sure that it was one of utter disappointment. He didn't know how he was going to recover from this awkward mess — how he was going to get dressed or resume normal activities or plan for the next day without the shame of what had just happened overwhelming him and leaving him unable to do anything.

 He nearly shrieked when Iskandar began to laugh.

 “You call me an idiot, but you are the true fool, boy! This 'lube’ you speak of is a substance for easing penetration, correct? Surely, it is no better than olive oil?”

 Waver slowly raised his head, still avoiding eye contact. He resisted the urge to rub his eyes for fear that he would cry from the sudden onslaught of conflicting emotions.

 “Olive… oil?”

 “Of course. The stuff is liquid gold! In my day, it was a staple! Not just for cooking.” Iskandar winked again. “How silly it is to have a separate product for lubrication when olive oil can do the trick perfectly well! Surely, your grandparents must have some in their kitchen?”

 The magus paused, struggling to collect his thoughts. He never would have considered resorting to something so peculiar on his own, but he should have figured that Iskandar would think of something. He was experienced, after all. Still, olive oil? Really? That seemed unusual, but it couldn't be any worse than lotion, right?

 “I don't know,” Waver mumbled in reply. “Never bothered to check.”

 “Ah.” Rider pursed his lips in contemplation, but he didn't stay still for long. Within seconds, he had opened the door and was crouching through the door frame with a clear goal in mind.

 As soon as Iskandar had turned the doorknob, Waver yelped and scrambled to cover his lap with his soiled sweater. The Mackenzies weren't home, but that didn't stop the younger man from panicking about being seen.

 “Rider?! What the bloody hell are you doing!?”

 “That should be obvious, boy! I’m going to pillage the Mackenzie's storage for a vase of olive oil!” Iskandar responded, no longer in Waver's field of vision. His voice bounced up the staircase and gave his master the same sense of dread that he had felt when the Macedonian king stole a copy of Homer's epic from the library.

 Waver opened his mouth to yell a response, but all he could do was stammer and splutter until his mind concocted something coherent to say.

 “Idiot! We don't keep oil in vases anymore!” Waver shouted. It took another moment for him think of something helpful to add. “Look for a plastic bottle or you're not going to find anything! And don't make a mess!”

 No response.

 “I mean it, Rider! I don't need them asking me what we've been up to while they were away!”

 Waver didn't bother to mention that he didn't want to disturb their belongings, either. Not as if he weren't already disturbing their personal lives by pretending to be their grandson, but that wasn't the point. The young magus didn't know when he started caring about the Mackenzie couple's well-being, but he didn't like it. He and his servant were in the middle of a war, so there was no room for feeling bad about something as minor as billeting. Then again, there shouldn't have been room for whatever _this_ was between him and his servant, either.

 Oh, well.

 As Waver waited for Iskandar to return, he found himself unable to calm his nerves. The silence was terrible for his racing thoughts, and the occasional clunking from the ground floor made any attempts to calm down impossible. His mind could barely take it. Why did Rider make him so madly aroused? Why was Rider acting unusual? What in Christ's name had possessed Rider to want to have sex with a virgin so pathetic and unappealing? What if Rider couldn't find any oil? What to do? What to do? What to —

 “We’re in luck, boy! Your grandparents had a bottle of olive oil in one of the cupboards! I'm a little confused about the, uh, label, though.”

 The loud booming of Iskandar's voice was followed by the even louder booming of his steps as he made his way up the staircase. As soon as his words sunk in, relief overwhelmed Waver. They would be able to continue. If Rider’s concerns about the label weren't the indication of some sort of mistake, that is.

 Once Iskandar made his way through the door frame into Waver's vision, the young magus was suddenly aware of the fact that Iskandar could also see him. Straightening his posture and shoving his balled fists into his lap, he tried to give his servant the most irritated expression possible.

 “What's the matter with the label? I can't read Japanese, but it looks like olive oil to me.”

 “It's definitely olive oil,” Iskandar clarified, pointing at the label despite his master's inability to understand it, “but there's something odd about the way it's described. What does 'extra virgin’ mean? Is this kind of oil pressed specifically for virgins?”

 It took Waver a moment to process what Rider had just said before he started laughing. His laughter came hoarse and heavy with almost no buildup, shocking Iskandar and draining any nervous apprehension out of Waver. The force of his own amusement threw his vocal chords out of whack and left tears in his eyes. A chance to laugh in such a nerve-wracking situation was exactly what the young magus needed to unwind. Even as his hysterics died down, his expression remained wild and gleeful. Iskandar watched in silence, his face frozen in a blend of genuine confusion and surprise.

 “A-Are you serious?! They can't… They can’t make olive oil just for virgins!” Waver screeched as he clutched at his sides and gasped for air. He had doubled over, and his hair had become a messy shroud over his face. Beneath the tangled canopy, his cheeks were flushed and his tears had dried in the crevices of his smile lines. Iskandar had never seen Waver like this before, and he seemed unsure of whether to laugh along or show concern.

 “Pah. Then why is it called 'extra virgin’?”

 The ancient Macedonian king was forced to wait for an answer until his master had finished catching his breath. Rubbing his eyes and wiping the hair out of his face, Waver sat up and tried to compose himself. Within seconds, everything had returned to normal save for the faint traces of a rare, bemused smile. It had been far too long since he had smiled like that.

 “It's called that because it's high quality, idiot,” Waver explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It doesn't have all the chemicals and stuff that normal olive oil has.”

 “Ah, I see,” Rider mused, eyes widening in understanding as he sauntered closer to the bed. After setting the bottle of olive oil on the dresser, he plopped himself down beside Waver, causing the smaller man to bounce from the force his weight on the mattress. Before Waver could complain, Iskandar cupped the former’s cheek in his hand and smiled mischievously. “That must mean I’ve been fated to receive the highest quality, then, does it not?”

 As soon as Waver realized what Iskandar meant, his entire face turned red with both embarrassment and anger.

 “You bastard!” the young magus shouted, shoving his servant’s hand away and turning his face in indignation. “How dare you!?”

 It was Iskandar's turn to laugh, although his laughter wasn't quite as hysterical as his master's had been.

 “Oh, come now! There's nothing wrong with being a virgin!”

 “Shut up, arsehole! I don't care what you think!”

 Waver's strawberry blush and racing heartbeat said otherwise.

 “Do you truly not care?” Rider asked innocently. When Waver whipped his head around to face his servant, he was met with a soft and sincere smile.

 “N-No! I mean, it's… it's not like I care, b-but it's not like I don't care! I mean —”

 “You're being silly, boy,” Iskandar chuckled, silencing the smaller man beside him. Waver looked askance, too tired to keep up the act but also too stubborn to admit that he did, indeed, care what his servant thought about him. “Do you still wish to continue?”

 Waver felt the blood rush to his ears and… other extremities, but he decided to delay his response for the sake of tormenting Rider with suspense.

 “...Yeah.” Another pause, even more awkward than the first. This time, on the account of Iskandar's silence. “I-I mean, do you want to?”

 The redhead grinned, all teeth and smile lines. Waver's heart skipped a beat.

 “It would be my honor, Waver.”

 Waver looked down to hide the fact that his face was only getting redder and redder. “S-Stop talking so formal. Close the door and take those trousers off already. I don't want my grandparents to show up while we're in the middle of this.”

 Iskandar nodded and quickly stood to obey the young magus’ instructions. It seemed that the ancient conqueror agreed — he didn't want this moment to be interrupted. However, his speed was delayed when it came to unzipping the front of his trousers.

 “Damn these metal contraptions,” Rider grunted, struggling to get a grip on the zipper slider. His bushy eyebrows had furrowed in concentration, and Waver had to restrain himself from sniggering at how silly his servant looked, pinching at his crotch with a look of intense frustration. “How is a man expected to remove his leggings if his fingers cannot grasp the pull?”

 “Normal men don't have sausages for fingers,” Waver reminded him.

 “You shall have to help me, boy,” Iskandar continued, ignoring the attempted insult. “Your tiny hands should be able to do the trick.”

 Waver pouted, but he wasn't in the mood to retaliate with words. Instead, he simply gave Rider an angry look and leaned forward to pull the zipper down. As he fumbled for the slider, he was forced to get a good look and feel for the swell in his servant’s trousers. The size and thickness was overwhelming enough when it was restrained, so he was terrified as to how overwhelming it would be once his servant was fully undressed. Before the young magus could get a grip, both figuratively and literally, his fingers started to tremble.

 “Is everything alright?”

 “I-I’m fine,” Waver insisted stubbornly, forcing his apprehension to the back of his mind and pinching the zipper slider between his thumb and index finger. With one pull, he was done. “There. Take them off yourself.”

 Iskandar nodded and proceeded to remove his jeans with as much grace as a bull in a china shop. Once he had shoved the waistband down to his ankles, he flailed around the room, kicking and hopping and tugging until the trousers were finally off both legs. Waver sighed countless times as he watched, wondering how many mistakes had been made for him to wind up attracted to such an idiot.

 “Finally, I have conquered one of the great modern trials. Denim leggings.”

 Iskandar huffed, looking down at the trousers tangled in front of his feet. His expression was an odd blend of irritation and pride. In Waver’s eyes, it was just ridiculous — to be so worked up over a completely normal pair of jeans. Unfortunately for him, something about that ridiculousness was also endearing.

 To Waver's chagrin, watching Iskandar grumble and hop around the room over something so silly made his desire to kiss his servant again almost unbearable. He had waited for far too long. Iskandar had started this with the intention to be shagged, and Waver had contended that, despite his dismay, he was going to shag his servant. No turning back, especially after Iskandar had put so much effort into this mess. As much as the young magus loathed to admit it, even to himself, he desperately wanted to continue. The suspense was starting to drive him up the wall.

 “Rider, get over here.”

 “Hoh?”

 Waver inhaled and braced himself. He was going to put his snark and his demandingness to use.

 “I’m tired of waiting. A-After how long it took you to get your trousers off, I don't think you can do the rest on your own, so I'm going to do it for you.”

 At the sound of Waver's attempt at seduction, Iskandar's face brightened. He was clearly amused, but he didn't try to hide the fact that he was also impressed.

 “Is my master trying to seduce me?” Rider inquired playfully, returning to sit by the young magus’ side. He was slower this time, so as to prevent the smaller man from bouncing into the air.

 Caught up in trying to think of a response that didn't sound stupid, it took Waver a moment to appreciate his gesture.

 “D-Don’t ask questions.” A pause matched with an expression of worried hesitation. “I’m… going to kiss you…?”

 “Is that what you want, boy?” Iskandar asked with full sincerity, taking the magus aback. He had been concerned about demanding too much if fear of being rejected, but it seemed that his hesitation had made him seem reluctant.

 “S-Stop being an idiot!” Waver whined. “I was giving you the chance to say something if you didn't want me to!”

 Rider chuckled in reply. His stature softened along with his expression, and he leaned forward to lessen the gap between himself and his master. “Ah, I appreciate that. But haven't we established that you're claiming your victory?”

 Waver's heart skipped a beat, but he rolled his eyes and scowled, anyway.

 “Victory my arse.”

 Before Iskandar could laugh again, Waver took the sides of the older man's head between his palms and pulled their faces together. He started indirectly, kissing the side of Rider's mouth and the skin below his bottom lip before he initiated a real kiss. Once their lips were locked, he tried to move onto Iskandar's lap, but it was a blind and clumsy attempt. To avoid being kneed in the crotch, the ancient king took it upon himself to lift Waver by the waist and set him down. The latter, of course, was indignant about this, biting on his servant’s lip in retaliation, but it was better than being kneed.

 It didn't take Waver long to get over his pique from being carried. Taking advantage of his position on Rider's lap, he straddled Rider's hips and ground his semi-hard erection against the bulge in Rider's underwear. The friction earned a pleasant groan from the King of Conquerors, so Waver continued, mimicking the king's moves from earlier by thumbing circles around his nipples through the cotton fabric of his shirt. This time, Iskandar hummed his pleasure into Waver's mouth as he parted the latter's lips with his tongue, deeping their kiss. The king captured his master's mouth with fervor, leaving Waver to focus all of his attention on his servant’s chest. With every thrust of his hips, he rubbed his thumb over the hardening nubs on his servant’s chest. Before long, Iskandar's nipples were hard enough to pull, and Waver discovered that doing so made the former pleased enough to make a sound almost resembling a moan.

 Curious, Waver decided that he wanted to pursue this sort of reaction further. With a tug on the hem of Iskandar's shirt, he broke away from the kiss and shifted backwards by a few centimeters, neglecting his now fully erect prick and the monstrosity restrained by his servant’s underwear. It seemed to have finally stopped growing, but Waver was afraid that any kind of certainty would jinx it. The shape of it beneath the nylon fabric was already overwhelming enough.

 Looking for a simple distraction, Waver shifted his attention to his own shirt, which had remained unbuttoned and bunched up around the widest part of his chest for quite some time. Once he had pulled the shirt down, all he had to do was unbutton it before he could remove it. The routine was mindless, easily completed. However, he was interrupted before he could slide the shirt off his shoulders.

 “Is something the matter, boy?” Rider asked, unaware of the reason his master had pulled away.

 “If something were wrong, I wouldn't be unbuttoning my shirt,” Waver snapped, suddenly overcome with urgency. To hell with taking his own shirt off. Undressing Iskandar was far more important. “Lift up your hands. A-Above your head.”

 With a look of understanding, Iskandar raised his arms, allowing the young magus to remove his t-shirt. Said magus was able to lift the hem over his servant’s head with ease, but he struggled to free the shirt from the arms towering over him. It took propping himself on his knees to fully remove the oversized article of clothing, but it worked at the expense of Waver’s frustration.

 “I think it would have been easier if I did that on my own,” Rider observed.

 With a muffled _thump_ , the Admirable Grand Tactics t-shirt, balled into a lump of cotton, bounced off the wall and fell onto the bed.

 “Shut up! I'm trying to help,” Waver retorted, but his voice lacked its usual edge as he was distracted by Rider's bare chest.

 In Waver's eyes, the King of Conqueror’s naked torso was impressive enough to outshine any man's vision of Adonis. His abs were as chiseled as those of any professional bodybuilder, his pectorals were round enough to resemble pillows, and each of his biceps were easily larger than the average man’s head. Too muscular for any noticeable hair, his chest was impossibly smooth save for the presence of a few dark scars that banded his arms and ribcage. If Waver were to be honest with himself, he found Iskandar's scars to be the most fascinating feature.

 “C-Can I —”

 “These are the scars of a man who has known many battles and just as many victories,” Iskandar boasted in response to his master's obvious stare. His words were solemn but proud, and they left the young magus too awed to deny that he had been admiring the jagged stripes. “Go ahead.”

 Nodding slowly, Waver ran the pad of his right thumb along the curve of the thickest scar, committing the feel of it to memory. He continued until he had traced every visible scar, wondering how they had been acquired and fantasizing about tending to the ancient king’s wounds.

  _No,_ Waver stopped himself, deciding that such a fantasy was cheap and underwhelming. _If I had been born in his day, if I were ever lucky enough have the honor of living and fighting alongside him in a_ real _war with a_ real _army, I would never allow him to be hurt in the first place. I would be his strategist, his defender, his support._

 That thought only succeeded in saddening the inexperienced magus. He knew that, with only the full extent of his own power, he could never be wise or talented enough to give aid and advice to such an incredible warrior as Iskandar. As far as impossible dreams went, nothing could be more impossible, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind for the time.

 “Is anything wrong, boy?” Iskandar asked, pulling his master out of his sad daydream.

 “N-No!” Waver insisted, shaking his head. “I just… I just want to get back to it is all.”

 Rider nodded and gave the younger man a soft smile. Waver felt as if his servant didn't believe him, as if his servant saw right through him. Pulling the young magus closer to his chest and patting the back of his head, Rider confirmed that Waver's suspicions were true. He wouldn't have offered such an unwarranted gesture of comfort, otherwise.

 “Very well. I’m more than ready when you are.”

 Waver squirmed in protest. “I-Idiot! I told you I'm fine!” Breaking free of Iskandar's embrace, he grabbed the sides of the older man's face once again and looked straight into his eyes. “I already said checkmate, and I don't want to repeat m-myself.”

 Iskandar grinned, but his grin was quickly lost under the pressure of Waver’s lips colliding with his own. The young magus wasted no time in picking up where they had left off, deepening their kiss with his tongue and pulling at Iskandar's nipples. This time, his fingers were touching bare skin, and it clearly made a difference in Iskandar's reaction.

 “Haa, boy,” Iskandar panted, breaking away to catch his breath. “That feels nice.”

 Those words, murmured between puffs, were enough to send Waver’s ego flying through the roof. Once they had resumed their kiss, Waver decided to go even further, rolling his servant's nipples between his thumb and index finger in rough circles and using the edge of his nail to inflict a bit of pain every so often. He was unsure of how Rider would react, but his worries were put to rest when the ancient king pulled away just to moan. Satisfied, Waver continued with vigor, tugging and twisting at the nubs hard enough to make them sore until the next day.

 “Boy,” Iskandar gasped. “S… Stop.”

 “H-Huh?”

 Iskandar chuckled softly and breathlessly, the tint on his cheeks betraying his embarrassment. He took a moment to breathe before explaining himself. “The feeling is too powerful. No one has ever pleasured me in such a way before, and I think I may go mad if you continue without helping me release.”

 “Oh,” Waver murmured, unsure of whether he should be immensely proud or immensely embarrassed. He had gotten so distracted that he had forgotten to consider what to do next. Fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt, he tried to think.

 “I-I guess… I guess I'll take those off, then?” Waver continued, hesitantly glancing at his servant's boxers. As expected, Iskandar's bulge was terrifying to look at. It had to be _at least_ twenty-three centimeters. The young magus was already overwhelmed with fear, but he knew that there was no way he could back out at this point.

 “I would appreciate that.”

 Swallowing his fear, Waver hooked his fingers around the elastic waistband and tugged. To his frustration, the waistband only slid down Rider’s arse and not his front, exposing nothing more than a few tufts of pubic hair for Waver to see.

 “Rider,” Waver complained, “You need to move a little! Lie down and lift up your hips!”

 Nodding, Iskandar did as he was told, shifting onto his back and angling his hips toward the ceiling. From that angle, Waver found that his servant's erection seemed slightly less intimidating. In fact, he was starting to become overwhelmed with a curiosity that he had been trying to suppress.

 Again, Waver hooked his fingers around the waistband and pulled. This time, the waistband moved without much resistance, and the young magus was able to pull the boxers down to his servant’s knees. Before he could finish getting them off, he found himself terribly distracted by what had been uncovered.

 Iskandar’s fully erect prick was nothing like Waver had imagined. In fact, he had never seen an uncircumcised erection before, so there was no way he could have come up with any kind of accurate mental image. Taking a closer look, he was certain that it was nearly as long as his own arm. The tip of the head was exposed, red and swollen from neglect, but the rest was covered in thick, veiny skin. To Waver, it was undeniably weird, but he figured that Iskandar probably had the same reaction to his own lack of foreskin. Either way, he was painfully aroused.

 “You like what you see?” Iskandar teased, admiring his master’s wide, unblinking eyes and flushed cheeks. He was clearly bemused, but he also seemed a bit flattered.

 “B-Be quiet, idiot. Let me finish,” Waver snapped, tearing his stare away. Paying no attention to comfort, he yanked the older man’s boxers off his legs and tossed them aside. He would worry about washing them later. “Alright, n-now what?”

 “I need to be stretched,” Rider explained. “To prepare for a phallus of your size, it should be a short process, though.”

 It took the young magus a moment to understand the meaning behind his servant’s words, but — once it sunk in — his eyebrows scrunched together in offense.

 “I don't need you to give me that kind of input!” Waver shouted, slapping the older man’s calf with the back of his hand. He opened his mouth to say more, but he faltered when he realized that he still had no idea what to do next. It was embarrassing, being so inexperienced and having to ask so many questions. Unfortunately, there was no way he could pretend to know what was going on the way he would in most situations.

 “So… Uh… How do you do that?”

 Iskandar blushed again, and Waver felt his stomach sink. If it was awkward enough to make Iskandar pink, how bad was it?

 “Well,” Rider started despite his clear reluctance. “Normally, the man in the dominant role oils his fingers and uses them to stretch his partner. You start with one finger and work your way up to three or so.”

 The young magus recoiled.

 “Wh… What?! I'm not doing that! It's not clean!”

 Humiliating, as well, but Waver felt no need to add that. As disturbed as he was by the thought of doing something so unsanitary, he was also terrified of messing up somehow.

 Iskandar laughed. It was a nervous laugh, but there was some genuine amusement in it. “I thought you would say that, boy. If you insist, I shall stretch myself. Is that acceptable?”

 Too fazed to speak, Waver nodded. He never would have expected Rider to be so understanding, but he was grateful for the man’s ability to predict his reaction. Now, all he had to do was watch and mentally prepare himself for the mana transfer.

 So, he watched.

 It was unusual to see Iskandar so apprehensive about _doing something_. This was a man who recklessly charged into battle with multiple opponents before considering the consequences, a man who often rambled about his personal opinion of others without any warrant or consent, a man who once conquered half the globe in pursuit of a baseless fantasy. To see him nervous and flustered as he simply reached for a bottle of olive oil was jarring.

 Waver almost wanted to say something, to tell him that there was no need to continue, but he reminded himself that it was Rider who had initiated this in the first place. Rider had proposed the game of chess, and Rider had nagged about being penetrated over and over again. If he was having any second thoughts, that was his problem. Still, the young magus wished there was some way he could ease his servant’s nerves.

 Before Waver could think of anything, Iskandar had already coated the fingers of his left hand with a generous amount of olive oil. Setting the bottle back on the dresser, he exhaled and spread his legs further apart. Waver wanted to stare, but he was afraid it would seem weird, so he watched Rider’s facial expressions, instead. The latter seemed focused until his eyes suddenly darted upwards to meet Waver's gaze. Waver flinched.

 “You can watch if you like, boy. I would prefer it. This is for you.”

 Waver’s insides fluttered after hearing his servant’s last statement. He was still apprehensive about watching, but he was relieved to have been granted permission. Thankful but unwilling to say anything about it, he nodded and shifted his gaze to Rider's fingers.

 Iskandar inhaled and then exhaled deeply before pressing the tip of his index finger into his hole. He winced slightly as it went in, and Waver found himself wincing as well. Still, it was mesmerizing to watch. Before long, the first finger was in all the way. As Iskandar worked it around, stretching himself — as was the purpose — Waver’s gaze drifted back to his servant’s face. He was intensely focused, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat beading on his forehead. Waver winced again when the silence was interrupted by a sharp groan. If not for his servant’s look of pleasure, the young magus would have been alarmed.

 By the time Iskandar inserted his second finger, his face was nearly flushed and his right hand was grasping at the sheets. As he continued to stretch himself further, Waver noticed that his servant’s prick twitched every time his arm rubbed against it.

 “Um… Rider?”

 “W-What is it?” Iskandar responded in a strained voice.

 “Can… Can I…?” The young magus gestured at Rider's prick with his left hand, stopping just before his palm made contact. He was nervous, but his nerves had already been overwhelmed by an unquenchable desire to pleasure his servant. He wanted this.

 “Of course,” Rider agreed breathily. His consent was followed by another groan.

 Waver was determined to extend the pleasure behind that groan for as long as possible. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his left hand around the base of Iskandar's prick. The sensation was so odd. The other man's pubic hair felt coarse against the side of his palm, and the texture of foreskin was entirely unfamiliar. As Waver moved his hand up and down, he was surprised to find that the foreskin moved with his hand, exposing redder skin underneath. Fascinated, his strokes remained slow until Iskandar’s hips began to thrust into his hand, an indication that he was desperate for more.

 As soon as Waver quickened the pace of his strokes, Iskandar inserted a third finger. Waver’s own fingers brushed against the side of Rider's arm every time they moved, but the young magus didn't mind. All he could focus on was the look on Rider's face, dazed and full of pleasure. This was new for Rider, too, and he was clearly enjoying it. If his expression wasn't telling enough, the precum that had started to leak from the tip of his prick said the rest. Secretly excited by the result of his work, Waver began to work his arm and wrist even faster, only stopping when Iskandar removed his fingers and tilted his hips away.

 “E-Enough, boy. I'm ready.”

 Waver quickly removed his hand and gulped. It was finally time. There had been plenty of time for him to mentally prepare himself, and he had tried his best, but he was still anxious that he would mess up somehow. He wanted to satisfy Iskandar, to make him desperate for more, but he was unsure that he would be able to do it.

 Of course, the only thing he could do was try.

 “I-It took you long enough,” Waver mumbled, struggling to keep his composure. “You're so slow.”

 Iskandar grinned. “I'm taking my time and enjoying myself. That's why we're doing this, isn't it?”

 Waver flushed and looked askance. Of course, he was enjoying himself. He had never enjoyed himself this much before. Still, there was no reason for Rider to be acting as if this was some sort of privilege for him. It was true that he had been unable to experience this sort of thing during his lifetime, but there must have been others who would have been willing to try this sort of thing with him. As for Waver, no one had ever wanted to do this with him before. Surely, no one else ever would, either. The magus had always comforted himself by insisting that he was too dedicated to his studies to even consider being sexually active, but it was really just a form of repression. Deep down, he had dreamed of a scenario like this for so long. As a reality, it felt too good to be true. Iskandar was too good to be true. He never could have envisioned such a perfect man, such a perfect partner. His only disappointment was that he would never be able to say such things aloud.

 “It's for mana transfer,” Waver lied, refusing to look Iskandar in the eye as he spoke. “Hand me the olive oil.”

 Rider did as he was told. As Waver took the plastic bottle from his servant's hand, their fingers touched, and he impulsively lifted his eyes. For a moment, their stares locked, and Waver found a trace of something sad in Iskandar's face. He wished he could take his words back, but they had already been spoken, just as fate had already decided that this experience would only be remembered by one of its participants if the Holy Grail were to be claimed by another.

 Waver already wished that he could be the one to forget.

 Forcing premature thoughts of regret to the back of his mind, Waver opened the top of the cap and poured a generous amount of olive oil onto his right palm. After single-handedly closing the cap, he returned the bottle to Iskandar and moved his hand to the tip of his own prick. He had to admit that the smooth feel of olive oil was preferable to the clumpiness of lotion, but he was sure that actual lube would feel even better. Once his prick was fully covered in oil, he perched himself on his knees and shuffled closer to the man in front of him.

 “R-Rider…?”

 Iskandar grunted.

 “I… E-Even we're doing this to transfer mana, it's… I'd rather have to do it with you than anyone else. I-I mean —”

 “No more words, boy,” Rider insisted. His words seemed terse, but Waver noticed that the look on his face had softened. He was glad.

 With a sharp inhale, Waver decided that he was done hesitating. He had waited long enough for this moment. Exhaling, he positioned the tip of his prick against Iskandar's hole and slowly moved his hips forward. He was surprised at how easy it was. His prick moved smoothly into Rider, and Rider showed no sign of discomfort.

 Embarrassed but desperate for reassurance, Waver made eye contact with Iskandar once again. Iskandar smiled at him, and he took that as incentive to push his hips all the way. His servant groaned appreciatively, and he moved his hands to grip the larger man’s hips. He could feel his entire body turning red, but he no longer cared. This was the best feeling he had ever experienced.

 Digging his fingernails into Rider's hips, Waver pulled out a bit and then thrusted forward. Iskandar groaned again, louder this time, and Waver found that he could no longer restrain himself. He continued to thrust over and over again, quickening the pace as he got the hang of it. Rider was surprisingly tight around him, and the pleasure was incomparable, but he wanted Rider to feel just as good. Leaning forward, he moved his hands to the sides of Iskandar's chest and pulled himself even deeper into his servant. The sudden force was strong enough to make Waver moan, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Iskandar to moan, too.

 Fortunately, all Waver had to do was lower himself. Hugging Rider's chest, Waver latched his mouth around one of Rider’s nipples. As soon as he started to massage the swollen nub with his tongue, Iskandar jerked his hips forward. Waver felt the larger man’s erection rub against his abdomen as their hips moved in tandem. Pleased, Waver made an effort to thrust in a way that would provide Rider with enough friction to grind against him. Every time he thrusted, Iskandar grew more and more vocal.

 Waver knew he had won when he allowed his teeth to sink into the swell of Rider's nipple ever so lightly. Iskandar moaned loudly, and his hips jerked violently against Waver’s own hips. Determined to make his servant feel as pleased as possible, Waver sucked harder and harder and thrusted faster and faster, paying no mind to his own moaning or the drool that was leaking out of his mouth. Everything was becoming hazy, and he felt as if he would be unable to hold out for much longer.

 “Waver,” Iskandar rumbled, slow and deep, “Let me see your face.”

 Waver’s heart swelled in his chest at the sound of his name. Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, wanted to see his face? It seemed like something from an impossible fantasy, but Waver was not about to refuse.

 Looking up, Waver’s gaze was met with an expression of intense pleasure and something indescribable. Iskandar's eyes were soft and partially lidded, and his cheeks were entirely pink. Beads of sweat slid down his face, traveling over the crevices of an expression twisted in bliss. Waver knew that this was all his doing, and there was no way he could have been more proud.

 Without breaking eye contact, Waver repositioned himself, cupping his hands around Iskandar's pectorals and spreading his knees further apart. Rider wrapped his legs around Waver, drawing him as close as possible. With their bodies pressed so firmly together, it was is as if they were inseparable. Between the tight warmth around his prick and the warmth straining against his abdomen, pleasure pooled over every fiber of Waver's being, tethering him to the man beneath him. Waver panted with each thrust, vaguely aware that he was about to reach his climax. If Rider's grunts and moans were any indication, they were both nearing the point of release.

 “Rider,” Waver whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “R-Rider, I can barely continue. I-I feel…”

 “G-Go ahead, boy,” Iskandar groaned, wrapping his hands around his master's hips to push him faster.

 Waver cried his servant’s name as he climaxed, ego forgotten. He thanked his lucky stars that he could come without pulling out, as transferring body fluid was necessary to exchange mana. His entire body quivered with something greater than he had ever felt, blinding him for a moment and flooding his senses with a dreamlike haze. Immediately after his release, Rider also came, spilling white all over his abdomen and Waver’s chest.

 Panting, Waver collapsed. His head fell between Iskandar's pectorals, and the booming of Iskandar's heartbeat roared in his ear. Somehow, it was the most relaxing sound he had ever heard. As the waves of pleasure receded, Waver became exceedingly aware of his proximity to his servant — skin against skin, sweat mixing, and cum smearing over their torsos. He was too tired to care about the mess between his body and the body beneath him, too tired to care about the regret that was sure to haunt him for the rest of his life if he were to survive this mistake of a war. He just wanted to enjoy this moment, the warmth of the man beneath him and the sound of their hearts beating in unison.

 “You’ve left me helpless, Waver Velvet,” Iskandar praised. Oddly enough, he sounded genuine. Waver figured it must have been the orgasm wearing off, but his heart still skipped a beat. “I'll never be able to experience a more satisfying defeat.”

 “Idiot…” Waver mumbled drowsily. “You're not going to be defeated after tonight. Not after I just gave you all that mana.”

 Rider chuckled and ran his fingers through his master's hair. He had done this many times before before, roughly when he patted his master on the head and gently as he drifted off to sleep when they shared a bed. Somehow, it felt different this time.

 “That's the spirit, boy.”

 Waver could only wish his words were true, that victory would be as certain as checkmate in a silly match he was meant to win, but it was hopeless. The King of Conquerors was nearly out of moves, and there was no hope for a master whose only real strength was in surrender. Still, the lingering taste of victory was sweet, and Waver intended to savor it until the very end of the game.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed. follow me on twitter @shslducktective for over-enthusiastic waver-posting.


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